Frames of You and Me
by Lulu-Prints
Summary: Silver pair. 7 years ago, they were partners in crime, deep in love. When Choutarou left Ryou believed it was the end to everything; little did he know, that 7 years later, they would meet again.. Rating might be changed!


**Disclaimer : **I do not own Prince of Tennis & the hot tennis princes inside, although like everyone else out there, I really wish I did.

**Note to all : **I really don't mean to post such a crappy, emotional start of a story immediately seeing how I just came back to writing for FFN.. Please forgive me, neh? Hope you'll enjoy -gets bricked- well, this isn't meant to be enjoyed if you understand what I mean. Well, let's hope it at least makes sense.. Thank you to all who have been so patient with me!

* * *

_"The number you have just dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later.."_

Slender fingers reflexively tightened around the phone they were holding, shaking slightly as they removed the cool metal from the boy's ear. He knew he wasn't quite behaving like himself, that he needed to calm down, yet he couldn't control the desperate feeling welled up in his chest. Jabbing the 'redial' button with another shaky finger, the boy placed his phone back at his ear, and held his breath in anticipation..

_"The number you have just dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later.."_

It was the same emotionless female voice, not the male one he was looking forward to hearing. The phone was wretched away from his ear forcefully this time, both his hands shaking so hard that he feared he might drop the phone from his height. With his phone pressed fearfully against his chest now, the boy squeezed his eyes shut, and took the silver cross on his necklace with his other free hand.

"Please, I just want to hear.."

His voice had dropped to a hollow whisper, him holding both items dearly in his trembling hands, head bowed forward as he hoped, if not prayed silently. He hadn't ever thought he would ever desire something so fiercely before, desperate even to be willing enough to be _praying _for it..

Lifting his shaky finger to the keypad again, the mahogany haired boy drew a sharp breath, and forced himself to calm down. He had to dial that number all over again; each button pressed made him shudder a little more, and at last, his finger found its way to the 'call' button.

There was no dial tone; the line was cut immediately to the service message.

_"The number you have just dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later.."_

He couldn't even save his phone this time; feeling his mind going numb all of a sudden, the boy allowed his phone to drop and to hit the hard floor below, paying it no attention as it bounced off to the side. The impact of the drop hit the 'loudspeaker' button, and it sent the service message booming through the room through his phone's loudspeaker.

_"The number you have just dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later.."_

Shishido Ryou sank onto his knees, his trembling hands shielding his ears as best as possible, but still unable to block the announcement from reaching him; It repeated twice more, the cool female voice announcing that empty message lifelessly, torturing him as her voice echoed in his room. Long after the line went dead, he stayed in the same position, curled up in a defensive ball on the floor, tears escaping slowly from his tightly squeezed shut eyes.

"I just need to hear.. Your voice.."

* * *

"Shishido-kun."

Ryou was barely aware of his gaze shifting from his lap as he raised his head slowly to the direction of the voice, dark eyes still misted from his most recent outburst. He hadn't realised that he had his hands frozen on the piano keys, nor did he notice the clear tear tracks running down his cheeks - until he caught the teacher's eyes.

"_Warui_, sensei," Ryou choked, lifting his fingers off the keys of the piano at once; his voice betraying him regardless of how hard he tried to hide his sorrow otherwise.

"It-It's alright, Shishido-kun. Are you.. Okay? You could do with a trip to the washroom."

She hadn't ask why he was in the music room alone, but it was only natural for her to stay quiet if she knew; even if she didn't, she would have guessed. After all, it wasn't that rare a sight to see him in the music room anymore, not after he had been here so many times.. At Choutarou's request. Looking down at his hands, now frozen in his lap, Ryou abruptly realised that he was quivering - however slightly. Alarmed, Ryou pushed himself off his chair while shaking his head sharply, startling the teacher with his rough actions. It didn't take him more than a few wide strides to cross the room, towards the door.

"I should- Please.. Excuse me sensei," the mahogany haired boy threw a hasty apology as he approached the door, hoping this was enough for the elder to allow him to get away. He had entered the music room only because it was empty, but it hadn't occur to him that it couldn't possibly stay that way throughout the whole day.

"Ano.. Shishido-kun..?"

He was called back just before he exited the room, his slightly trembling hand already wrapped around the door knob. As he turned his head back, he caught the expression on the lady's face - Regretting his instant of uncertainty, Ryou dropped his head and murmured quietly, "Yes, sensei?"

It took him everything he had to manage the two words without his voice quivering, although his eyes would have argued that he had still failed miserably.

Stale silence hung in the cold music room; so stiff, Ryou couldn't help but to raise his head to glance at the only other person in the room once more. He watched, through hollow eyes, as the female teacher strolled at her own pace towards the piano - Choutarou's favourite instrument; however, as she rested her fingers on the sharper keys, he couldn't help but to glance away again, onto the floor. The hint of pity in her emerald irises made him feel as though she was viewing him as something incomplete, even something contaminated or dirty. Maybe something worth pitying.. As though he had gone mad.

He had not gone mad.

"No.. Nevermind, it's nothing."

He barely heard her last whispered word; Ryou had exited the room in a fury of motion. Slamming the door shut behind him with a noise so loud it echoed continually all around him, the mahogany haired boy dashed down the hallway, in the opposite direction of the bathroom.

* * *

Sitting under a certain tree behind the school's canteen, Ryou absent-mindedly ran his hands through his short, frisky hair as he locked his eyes on the grassy grounds. His back was protesting against the rough bark of the tree as he leaned his weight entirely on the solid trunk, but the mahogany haired teenager paid no attention to that fact as he fought against the rush of memories in his mind, and the tears threatening their way out of his eyes.

This was no normal tree, at least not to this pair of Hyoutei boys; just sitting here, alone, brought back so many memories he shared with Choutarou..

As though it had a mind of its own, his right hand moved slowly from his hair down to his chest, where a single cross stayed hidden from view under his uniform. No doubt Choutarou had been taller; the chain attached to the necklace was longer, but Ryou had no intentions of changing it. Right now, there were only so few things left for him to convince himself that Ootori Choutarou hadn't been a mere fragment of his imagination, the cross being one of them. It made no sense for him to destroy all of these which Choutarou had left behind with him, left behind in Japan.

Fingering the cool metal beneath his shirt, Ryou squeezed his eyes shut and bit down on his lower lip, dropping his head as he felt the cross pressed against his skin. He recalled how the cross had always felt warm, because Choutarou had this cute habit of reaching out for it when he was feeling nervous, or uncomfortable; now, the cross with him just felt permanently cold and lifeless, no matter how close he tried to put it in his heart..

A gentle breeze blew, catching the loose strands of his hair as it danced past his long lashes. The cool feeling on his cheeks abruptly reminded himself of his tears, and Ryou hastily reached out, to wipe the salty drops off with his sleeves. There was no one around to catch him in the act, but he was not one known to be crying all over the place, Ryou knew that much. As he did so, however, he caught sight of the yellow racket lying alone by his side, and was forced to hold back a sob as he recalled how Choutarou had left it behind.

His own racket had been smashed into two uneven halves and thrown into one corner of his room the moment he caught news of Choutarou's sudden disappearance. His kouhai hadn't even bothered to say goodbye, although he wasn't sure if this was only in his case. The only possible thing worse than that was how he was the last to know of it, only exactly forty-eight hours after Choutarou's flight had departed from Japan.

The racket also reminded him of how he was still required to attend tennis practice, and how Atobe Keigo would skin him if he didn't; even though he had been abandoned by his doubles' partner, and had his name taken off the list of regulars playing in their upcoming match against Seigaku.

With a sigh, Ryou picked himself up from the ground, back scrapping against the rough bark as he reached out to bring the racket with him. The teenager hastily wiped the remaining moisture off his cheeks, but missed the few drops still clinging onto his lashes; adjusting his uniform with a sigh, Ryou pushed himself away from the tree, and stumbled as he made his way to the tennis courts.

That was the only one place he should go right now.

* * *

There was an abandoned tennis court near the boundaries of the Hyoutei Academy, the court left mostly unused because it build on uneven grounds. As the sun approached the horizon, it threw brilliant rays of crimson upon a single male figure standing alone in the court, watching as perfect arcs were drawn in the air by a yellow-framed tennis racket, repeated again and again, arc after arc. Each swing of the racket was thrown out with more force than the previous one, until the boy felt a sharp pain in his upper arm-

A shrill, sharp cry of a whistle rang through the air, cutting short when the mahogany haired boy dropped the racket in his hands onto the floor with a loud 'clang'. However, as if desiring for further actions from him, the whistle sounded again, drilling a clean hole through Ryou's already hollow heart; the shrieks continued ringing in his head long after the whistle had been dropped. Finally, after an eternity of hesitation, the boy lifted his head slowly to glance in the direction of the whistle's howl.

It took him but a moment to realise who it was; the shrill cry belonged only to the one whistle that they, the members of the Hyoutei tennis team, were much familiar with. After all, all of them had its shriek memorised, however unwillingly.

Atobe Keigo was standing beside the observers' bench by the side of the court; he had been staring straight at the only other male in the tennis courts with a warm, understand gaze, but he wiped the expression away swiftly as he noticed Ryou raising his head - he knew how other males generally didn't like to be pitied upon; how Ryou hated to be, even more so. Replacing it with a sharp, but politely expressionless look, Keigo shook his head and gestured towards the other courts behind them slightly for emphasis.

"That's enough. Everyone has left, Shishido. Everyone but you."

The mahogany haired boy trembled for a moment before he took a swift glance at his surroundings. The only other Regular left near all of the tennis courts was probably their King, who was addressing him right now - just like how it had happened in the music room, except it was that female teacher back then. As though the stitches on his heart had broken open suddenly, Ryoy took tentative, shaky steps backwards as he brought his arms to his chest, hugging himself awkwardly as the nightmares started attacking him again; even though he was still wide awake.

Atobe tensed as he almost took a tentative step forward, but he held himself back in time. Shishido had not noticed him at all, but seeing his teammate in such a state was almost a torture. Normally, Atobe knew Ryou would notice these things - He would be among the first few to notice someone leaving or joining him. Now, looking at the lone figure down on the courts, he found he couldn't be sure about that at all..

He hadn't ever thought he needed to, but perhaps he had to stop to consider the true extent of damage love could possibly do.

"... You need to learn to let go, Shishido," Atobe's quiet voice finally shot through the eerie silence between them, piercing through Ryou's nightmare like an arrow. The mahogany haired teenager stopped dead as his eyes widened, finding himself staring blankly at the ground.

Head jerking up suddenly as he caught the other male's attention, Ryou tried to glare fiercely in Atobe's general direction; though, blinded by the tears that had welled up in his amber irises, the overall effect was ruined.

"I don't-"

_I'm not going mad._

"You're just not willing to accept the fact that he's-"

Atobe Keigo sighed as his words trailed off; there was no use for him to continue, for the brown haired boy had ran away, in a blink of an eye. Staring at the yellow tennis racket left abandoned on the courts, Keigo sighed once more, and turned to walk away. Shishido Ryou had just earned himself 50 rounds around the tennis courts for disrespect, but Keigo could understand. After all..

Of course, Keigo wouldn't admit it, but he had been hurt by love before, too. However, seeing Shishido in this state..

As Atobe Keigo paused to pick up the yellow tennis racket from the ground, he wondered vaguely if he had underestimated this thing called, 'love'.

* * *

He knew he had dinner, and he knew he was expected to be home soon. Yet, as he slowed to a calm, walking pace, Ryou was unsurprised to find himself at the front gates of the Ootori apartment. The gates were double-locked with heavy metal chains and a bulky-looking bolt, but they were the least of his worries. Dropping his bag easily without bothering about anything else, Ryou tensed himself, and climbed over the gate with but an unfathomable expression plasted on his face.

The front door was left unlocked, as though the Ootori family assumed no one would dare to trespass. Inside, most of the things remained as they were, but the whole house had acquired a lifeless feel without any human presence for almost a week now. Easing into Choutarou's room on the second level, Ryou held his breath as waves of painful nostalgia rushed into his heart, but he forced his eyes wide open to take in every detail of the room. It was already his third time back here since Choutarou has left, and there didn't seem to be anything else he hadn't spotted.

On his first trip here, which he had spent mostly punching the front gate in frustration, he had noticed the yellow racket left lying on the lawn of the apartment. On his second, he dared himself into Choutarou's room, and almost broke down when he saw the silver cross lying neatly on the desk. Now..

Rooted on the spot at the door of the room, Ryou fished his cellphone out from his pocket with shaky fingers, and proceeded immediately to dial the number he had memorised so long ago. Somehow, entering the ten single digits in seemed to take him so long; finally, his finger found its way to the 'call' button.

He knew he should've expected it, but he had hoped. They often said, the higher you hope, the harder your fall.

But Ryou was not one to listen blindly to what people often said, although he sometimes realises he should.

_"The number you have just dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later.."_

A fresh wave of hysteria built itself up at his chest, threatening to explode as he resisted the urge to toss his cellphone all the way out of the window. However, Ryou knew himself too well, and he understood perfectly how he was not one to give up on the first try. Leaning back against the door, Ryou inhaled the slightly dusty air of the room with a muffled sob. Before he knew it, however, he was already reaching out for the 'redial' button, trembling with sorrowful anticipation as he hit the button after a fleeting moment's hesitation.

The call went through.

Eyes opening wide, Ryou almost jumped as he pressed the cellphone into his ear, waiting for the other party on the other side of the line to pick up. In an instant he forgot he was in Choutarou's room, and the only thing he was aware was the thunderous cheers ringing from his heart in his ears. The call went through, the call went through! His heart chanted almost victoriously, adding to the noise in his head. However, the small, logical part of him told him that this is only happening because someone had reactivated the number - He wasn't going to hear the voice he wanted to hear, and the disappointment would be greater afterwards..

During that short moment when the line went dead, Ryou felt as though his heart had fell all the way down to his stomach. He should've hung up the phone as soon as the line got through, but his hopes of hearing his favourite kouhai's voice kept him hanging on.. This would be the death of him. However, that moment later, a click was issued through the line, followed closely by-

"Yes, it's me. Airi said you asked for me?"

It was unmistakeably Choutarou's voice, Ryou inhaled sharply, soundlessly as he held his breath, excitement apparent in the gentle flush on his cheeks. He didn't understand the hard edge to his kouhai's voice, or did he understand his kouhai's words, but being able to speak to him in person - he had so much to say, so much to ask! Fumbling with the phone slightly, Ryou trembled for a moment as he opened his mouth to speak, but choked as a second voice reached him through the line.

"I did, Choutarou. You owe us all an explanation."

"Atobe-buchou.."

"I am no longer your captain, the moment you decided to leave without a goodbye."

Silence fell on the other two sides of the line, while Ryou found himself silent through the exchange with a hand pressed against his mouth, his other hand gripping so tightly on the phone. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew that the other voice belong to Atobe Keigo, and he could tell that this conversation between Choutarou and Atobe was not meant for him to hear. Still, the mahogany haired boy didn't have the will to put the phone down, and before he could recover himself, the conversation continued.

"I have my reasons, Atobe-senpai."

"I assume I understand enough to conclude that-"

"I don't need to know your _assumptions_, Atobe-senpai. This is between my family-"

"- a mere excuse. You know nothing would be reason enough."

"No one would miss me. Nothing would change without my presence-"

"Do you truly believe so? Then what about Ryou-"

"I don't _care_ about-"

"- have you even stopped to _consider_-"

"- and he's not my concern-"

The use of his given name, by Atobe especially, had made him jump; but that aside, the sudden twist in the conversation was too much for him to comprehend. Ryou found himself pulling the phone away from his ear as he tried his best not to burst in hysteria, choking as he finally ended the call from his cellphone. As he flung the phone away from himself, paying it the least attention as it shattered against the wall, Ryou sank into a boneless pile on the floor. Choutarou's cold, uncaring voice echoed in his mind, speaking words he had never imagined he would hear from the boy he had loved..

**_He's not my concern!_**

Even long after the night has fallen, even with the phone out of his sight, Ryou still couldn't chase the echos of Choutarou's voice in his head away. Finally, gathering himself one last time, Ryou let himself out of the apartment in silence, his body moving with what remaining strength he had left. His phone remained shattered against the wall, its pieces scattered across the floor beside Choutarou's study table..

He would be needing his phone no more. He would be needing Choutarou no more.

At least, Ryou sobbed as he drifted off to an uneasy sleep - he tried to convince himself so.


End file.
